There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There was never a great man who had not a great mother.
The seventeenth-century baby slept, as his nineteenth-century descendant does, in a cradle. Nothing could be prettier than the old cradles that have survived successive years of use with many generations of babies.
My mother did not like children.
My daughter was a beautiful child.
Obviously, I'm suffering from lack of sleep, but it truly is a blessing to be a mother.
Unfortunately, I have a child who doesn't sleep.
Most of me was glad when my mother died. She was a handful, but not in a cute, festive way. More in a life-threatening way, that had caused me a long time ago to give up all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother.
Sleep is lovely, death is better still, not to have been born is of course the miracle.
My father was sleepless most of his life. So by the age of five, I was awake with him all night long, watching bad television or we'd lie in the same bed, and I'd read my comic books while he read his latest spy or mystery novel.
I think a good mom is an awake mom. At least for me, I've always been a kinder, better person awake than sleep-deprived!
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